Category: short stories

Stone love

“We should have listened to him when he said ‘no hugging, no kissing, no public display of affection’…” His lady love sighed.

“Ya true.
Actually, this idea of time travel was a total blunder…..” His stone lips replied.

“But who knew that in 4030 hugging in the public would turn us in stone.”

“Yes…… But on a better note, at least we are together in this, love and now we can talk as much as we want, without work, without phone, without any distraction till the police here comes to fix us up.”

“Ya, it’s a nice reprieve…… A much needed break…” Saying that she tried to finish that kiss they had started but then realisation struck her…. Better not try anymore of these while they are here, because they obviously didn’t know how many times can stone be replaced to human again….

Sunday Photo Fiction

The terrace

Standing at the end of the terrace and wondering at the ability of the vastness that lie below, my brain went back to this time one year before, when everything was in a disarray, all the doors snapping on me one after the other. The door behind me was the only one that didn’t shut on my face, so this the place that I had preferred to come. Jumping off was a thought but never became a deed because the courage needed never embraced me. Finally, I had gone to that same room that had held all the memories of my failure. I had heard the phone buzzing,


“You have been selected Rita, you can join from tomorrow.”

Standing today at the same place, I smiled and then journeyed back to my room, to get ready for my new day ahead.

100 word Wednesday week # 17

Again a free Shower

“Again a free shower!” The crow exclaimed.

“Yeah, at least you don’t have clothes on, or they would have dried on your body, giving you a nasty cold.” 

The crow looked at the concrete statue, his speaker, “Oh! You have just one fibre of cloth on you, and that too made up of concrete, how can that dry and give you a cold?”

“Each time it rains, you fly off just before it starts pouring to find a shelter, how would you know what happens after? That little girl across the street comes running and puts a shawl around my shoulders along with a small umbrella on my head, and says, ‘I don’t want to see you get wet, Grandpa’ …..Each time she comes hurrying, I wish it would her mother’s umbrella she would bring and not hers, it’s too small for me.” 

“Um… at least you have someone who cares, unlike me… Actually her actions are noble, just not very fruitful….” 

“Yes, I know, that’s why I love her….” His voice trailed off as the sky started crying.

He looked across the street, and spotted the little girl coming towards her…. He tried smiling….. but concrete, Ah! that’s​ pretty solid……


maze was my idea of fun till I encountered this one. Not a guide, not another person, as if the maze was invented just for me, for me to discover, for me to reach its end. A maze that had many routes, each leading to the same destination but with a different path, with a different struggle, some are difficult ones, some are easy, but the once I choose a path, I can never trace back, I have to move forward and encounter a different road. Sure people can help from outside from the perspective of their maze, what they say might be the correct solution to their maze but not of mine. In all this the only trouble is it’s never ending. This maze called life begins, but the destination is never found because life is a journey…..

My dear

“You are behaving like a teenager, Robert.” 

I glanced at her, even though she was frowning, I could see the hint of her smile; still captivating.

“We aged my dear, our love didn’t.”

The above 3 line tale is in response to:

In this Challenge you need to write a tale in 140 characters or less using the given picture as the prompt. 

My tale is 136 characters long.

New journey

“Finally, I am venturing forth into a new journey away from the shackles of past, away from toxic people and situations sucking me dry.”

Above is a one line tale is in response to:

In this Challenge you need to write a tale in 140 characters or less using the given picture as the prompt. 

My tale is 108 characters long.

I know it’s unrelated, but dry is the antonym of flood, which is synonym of overwhelm.

The mistake

A few metres away from a temple, a 12 yr old girl was standing on a bridge overlooking a river. She was leaning on the bridge, watching numerous diyas (earthen lamps) floating away along with little hibiscus flowers. People come to this temple, to worship, in order to get a better life, pray for their or their children’s success and also redeem for their sins, to ask His forgiveness. They say, one dip into this river washes off all the immoral acts. Such a holy place. Paradise of hope.

She stood their, cold breeze slightly unruffling her hair. She felt a hand on her side, she shifted a bit, distancing herself from the man it belonged to. He came a bit closer, she shifted again. This continued until she had no more room to do so. He inched closer until his hand rested on her left breast. She looked at the man, but he was staring at the temple. She walked away to the other side of the bridge. Silently.

She always thought it was a mistake. That day, the next day, everyday. A girl of that age in an Indian society, how much does she know to judge? Sexual abuse? Who would do that to a 12yr old? It was all a mistake. Yes, it was. She thought. These things were all over the newspaper, but the newspaper didn’t interest her. At least not the serious crime portions. So she continued, oblivious. Until one day she grabbed the newspaper, with a new born curiosity to know the world at large. There she read about these. So many suffered. Some older than her, some younger.

Now she knows, how much intentional the whole incident was. No, she can’t go back and punish him. No, she can’t go back to that moment and slap him or scream. No, she won’t be able to see if he had changed or he is still the same. Maybe she doesn’t even remember his face, it has been long, and it was dark enough. But she knows what it felt like. To be taken advantage of. And deep down she has made a solemn promise, never would she allow it to repeat again.